Notice
by Zwerven
Summary: A relatively short Netherlands/Estonia oneshot. The Baltic nation has quite a crush on the other, but why would such a striving nation even think twice about him? Teensy bit of angst I suppose.


WHILE I WAS WORKING ON SÕNAD, THIS... GRIPPED ME TO WRITE. I blame my lovely Netherlands roleplayer, whom I have lovely Netherlands/Estonia/Netherlands with over at my roleplay~

This is a oneshot unless I can one day be bothered to write any more. |D

The Netherlands' fanon name used here it Lars Wubbell, something I must credit to my wonderful roleplayer friend whom I send lots of love to. ;A;

While it may seem a little... odd, how nervous Estonia seems to be... Well. Netherlands wasssss a huge world presence. Historically, Estonia, as being such a small country has usually been daunted by people of the like. So... without any more rambling, here.|D;

* * *

He would never be noticed.

Eduard was barely a foot away from the object of his attention. Even if he could just reach across the oval table and touch him, the dirty-blonde haired man would probably pay him no mind. The other man had been one of the world's best explorers, he'd been everywhere and seen it all, while the Estonian kept to his little pocket in Eastern Europe. There must have been worry etched on his face, because to his left, Toris nudged his arm.

Speaking soft and quietly, barely able to be heard with the sounds of America and England arguing over something, his brother's voice came out.

"Are you okay?"

How nice it was that Toris was concerned, considering he sat the entire meeting so far with a pale face, looking as it he hadn't gotten sleep all night. They may not have been actual siblings, but Toris was always kind...

"Yes. I'm fine... Really. When's the meeting getting out?..."

The green-uniformed man just gave a slight shrug in response. Usually meetings would run over the time allotted anyways, until everyone could come to a stopping point. That was a rare thing in itself, so they were usually ended by whatever world power decided they were too tired to continue on and would get up and walk out. Nations after that would start to trickle away until usually just the remaining, arguing ones were left...

Of course the entire meeting had been derailed on a tangent into something meaningless, meaning most people weren't paying attention anyways. Eduard turned his gaze down to the wooden table in front of him, lightly tracing his finger over the grain. Each letter he traced over the previous one, long past the need of having to actually see the letters to envision them.

_Holland..._

_Madalmaad... _

It was his name in his own language. Every other letter he'd glance up over at the nation of his affection. Eduard himself thought it was a bit embarrassing how he fawned over the stoic man with almost a school girl like crush, but he never seemed to have a good opportunity to approach him. Usually the Estonian was with his brothers, while the Netherlands had Belgium and Luxembourg glued to his side. Nations did most often stick to packs after all...

The Dutchman looked fidgety. He was tapping his yellow tinted fingers—long ago stained from tobacco from his continuous use—against a folder on the table in front of him. Like Berwald, he was often one of the more quiet yet strong presences at meetings, finding the occasional nod of approval or glare at countries that acted up to be more appropriate than words.

If he tried to think back, Eduard couldn't even remember how long ago that it was since he had begun to take a liking to him. It was only in recent years, that much he was sure of. Sometime after he had left from Russia's side, after his country was once again at a stable position... When he was finally able to relax and take a look around to notice everything around him, he hadn't been able to pull his attention away from the fellow blonde.

Eduard sighed softly, looking down at the table as well. He knew the history of many nations well, and loved to learn, but ever since his crush had sparked he found Dutch history most intriguing. They hadn't any personal bonds before, or even much contact...

And it was obvious to the Estonian why that was. The other had been able to travel the world, see places that Eduard only read about. He was a much more important contributor to the world than Eduard ever hoped he could be himself. Not even to mention that he was also just attractive...

Biting down on his bottom lip, he glanced over at the two English-speaking nations still bickering away. Pulling his sleeve up a bit to check his watch, he groaned internally. It was definitely getting close to time to leave...

However, across the table, the Dutchman quietly rose to his feet. Virtually unnoticed by everyone by Eduard, he began to take his exit. With a slight frown, Eduard began to chew on his bottom lip as he watched the other man slink away. His siblings had stayed seated, and in retrospect it wasn't even the first time that the Netherlands had pulled away from a meeting early. He seemed to have a low tolerance for listening to nonsense that didn't relate to him at all.

Eduard fidgeted nervously. If he left after him... It would just be out of kindness, right? It's be so rude to allow him to leave entirely without someone giving him a good bye...

It was settled in his mind. He'd go greet the other man, tell him he wished he had a nice time at the summit, and then wish him well thoughts on his way. If anyone asked where he went, he'd have a perfectly legitimate excuse. Getting up from his seat, he pushed it back in. Nobody even looked up at him as he did, allowing him to easily walk away from the table.

Just as he exited the meeting and glanced down the hallway, he could see the Dutch man exit the building. Eduard hurried after him, not wanting him to get too far away. The sound of his shoes against the floor were almost as deafening as the sound of his heartbeat.

Once outside, he was glad to notice that the Netherlands had stopped to take a break outside of the building. The sound of summer insects chirping was everywhere, and his glasses steamed up from how warm it was outside compared to the air conditioned inside. Taking them off and rubbing them against the bottom of his jacket, he waited a few minutes with the glasses in his hands.

Setting them back on his face, he looked over to where the older nation was leaned against the side of the building. Considering there was a bench right next to him, Eduard found it a little bizarre that he wasn't sitting instead, but...

At least now he was able to get close to the western European nation with nobody else around. He observed him quietly for a moment, watching the flicker of fire as the other sparked a match to light his pipe.

After waiting to see a few puffs of smoke, Eduard had finally gathered enough nerves to approach him. Standing infront of him, he tilted his head to look at the other man. At least their height difference wasn't too much...

Taking another deep breath, the Estonian finally managed to speak.

"Goedenavond..."

The statement seemed to pique immediate interest from the Dutchman, having not often heard someone other than his siblings using his language. Their eyes both met, and Eduard could swear he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Spreek je Nederlands?"

Eduard froze for a moment, slowly looking back at him with a sheepish look. "...No, I... I don't actually speak Dutch, I'm sorry. I know German though?..." The second he said it, he instantly regretted doing so. The other man rose an eyebrow, the corner of his lips turning down into a frown.

"Oh! Not that..." As soon as Eduard tried to cover up his mistake, he was interrupted.

"It's not the same."

"...I-I know."

Cursing his bad fortune, Eduard was unable to even look back at his face. The tenseness was simply rising, his entire body feeling as stiff as a log. "My name is Eduard von Bock. Estonia."

"I know." Crossing one arm over his chest, the Dutchman looked over the nervous nation. Every time a word left his lips, it seemed as if the Baltic nation would jump. Considering the previous men he lived with, anyone would have assumed him to be used to intimidating people. There was even no reason for him to be out here right now, speaking to him... "Did the meeting end?"

Having the bad luck yet again to inhale a breath just as the other puffed more smoke into the air, Eduard looked back up at him. Shaking his head and trying not to cough, he gave a strained smile. "No, not yet. And... And you're Holland, right? Lars Wubbell?..."

"Netherlands. And yes, Lars." Why was he acting like they didn't know each other? Truth be told, they had spent plenty of time together in meetings, even though they rarely had a reason to speak face to face. Every nation, especially those of Europe at least, were all well aware of each other.

"Ah, right, I'm sorry-"

"So why did you leave?"

The fellow European nation cut him off yet again, as always brief and to the point.

"Well... I just wanted to talk to you! It wouldn't be right to let you leave alone, right? And I always just wanted to have a chance to speak with you, and..." Giving a slight groan, Eduard looked around nervously at the landscaping. Anything to avoid having to look at the taller man still taking gentle puffs from his pipe...

"So if you wanted to talk to me, why didn't you just do that?"

He made it sound as if it was just so simple. Eduard wrung his hands together in his lap, trying to take a deep breath this time before he started speaking at least. Even though the true reason was that the other nation seemed nearly as intimidating as Sweden with his quiet nature, he couldn't just say that...

"Well, the way Tino puts it is that the only thing that comes from you are tulips and drug users and so he's always telling me I shouldn't want to have a close friendship with you-" After all his thinking and planning that statement through, again he noticed in retrospect that it... Wasn't the smartest move.

Quietly, with his spare hand the Dutchman rubbed the back of his neck below the scarf. He'd heard similar things before, just mostly as whispers around him instead of directly to his face. At least the smaller nation didn't seem to be _intentionally _insulting.

"...You're not good with words, are you?"

"...U-usually I am..."

"Today's not your day then."

With a defeated sigh, the Estonian nation began to walk away from him, just a few steps to the bench beside him. Nodding in agreement, he took a seat. "It really isn't... I'm not usually a very confident person, but... ...I think you have a wonderful land." He meekly stated, a hand reaching up to grab something from his jacket pocket. Pulling out a sky blue handkerchief, he carefully held it in his palm and unfolded it. "I'd like to get to know you better, I really would..." Murmuring softly, he looked down at the vibrant blue cornflower that had been wrapped inside the silk fabric.

He had to see it again to believe it. For the past week as the meetings had been going on, he had carried it in his pocket, adhering to an old folktale he knew. Even if he had probably laughed at young men before for carrying a cornflower in their pocket, he now understood their reasoning behind it. If you had an unrequited love, you would carry it around, and if it was quick to wilt and die than the love wasn't meant to be.

It seemed impossible, but the flower now in his hand was entirely the same as the very day he had picked it. Not even a single petal was bruised. If the flower lived, it was supposed to mean your love was supposed to be returned eventually...

"Not much to know."

Right, of course not, Eduard thought with a bit of bitterness. Just the type of response he'd expect from Lars... At this point, he's just overly flustered at himself and a small part of him is disheartened and disappointed.

But it's to his complete surprise that the other man sets his pipe away as he finishes with it, stepping over to be able to sit and occupy the seat beside him. After looking at the flower again, he wearily glances up towards the Dutchman. Lars reaches over and plucks the flower from his hands, something that almost makes the Estonian protest.

"Centaurea cyanus... Korenbloem. If I didn't know better, I would ask if you were German... Some places know it as bachelor's button." There seems to be a slight haughty smirk that ghosts over the taller man's face as he speaks, obviously proud of his flower knowledge. Eduard set the handkerchief down on his own knee, turning his body slightly to look at him. It wasn't anything that he didn't already know, but he'd be patient and listen.

"It's not only Germany's national flower, you know." A shiver ran down his spine as he watched those fingers that had just been holding the pipe—the nicotine smell so strong still—twirling the little blue flower between them.

"And not only does it stand for single, desperate young men, but for love, desire and striving for the unreachable as well." This time it was Eduard who gave a small frown, nodding his head. The use of the word 'desperate' had been a little unnecessary, he thought, only since it struck so close to home...

"How does something stand for both love and a desire to even have love?"

To that, it seemed as if the western European country had no answer. He turned his head back to looking at the flower, studying the petals carefully. When he spoke again, it was with a softer tone. "Most things have more than one meaning, don't they?"

It was true, at least, the Estonian thought. Even if all the other did was answer his question with another question. He stared at Lars' hands, his fingers looking a bit calloused and rough. Besides the yellow discolorations, there was also the small scars here and there, little superficial injuries he was certain wouldn't be around for too much longer. Not all their scars as nations were permanent, like the gouge in the spiky-haired blonde's forehead seemed to be...

Lars was known for flowers, and it connected finally in Eduard's mind that he must spend a lot of time tending to them back home.

"Yes. How many meanings do tulips have?" He asked out of curiosity. As with anything else, he figured, there was probably a million possibilities. Surely someone with a bit more knowledge on the subject would be able to narrow it down though.

"What color?"

"Orange?"

Without missing a beat, the Dutchman responded.

"Energy, enthusiasm, passion..." There was the slightest spark in his eyes from the second orange was mentioned, speaking favorably about what had become his favorite color over the centuries. With a small smile, Eduard continued.

"Red?"

"Perfect love."

"White?"

"Purity and heaven."

"...Pink?"

Tilting his head down to Eduard, he rose an eyebrow at the mention of the color. It definitely was a color he chose only sparingly in his gardens. "Affection and caring."

"And yellow?"

While the younger nation was absorbing all the information much akin to a sponge, Lars just stared at him unblinkingly with his blue eyes.

"You have a nice smile."

The blue-green eyes grew wide, the smile on his lips melting away. He suddenly felt tense again, the combination of being spoken to while looked directly at like that along with his long-standing affection for the other grabbing him by surprise. Netherlands' expression didn't change at all, something that made the teenager utter a small sound.

"But they also mean hopeless love."

Just like that, the Dutchman turned his attention back to the flower. Eduard's eyes darted around as he took a deep breath to steady himself. Internally he berated himself, figuring now that the other had only been speaking of the meaning of the flower instead of actually complimenting him.

"...Well. That's kind of a long stretch away from a smile, isn't it?" With only a small nod in response, Lars turned toward the Northern European again. Taking the flower with gentleness someone wouldn't assume a man like himself would have, he placed it into the blonde's jacket pocket. Letting only the petals peek out, just as soon as he was about to pull his hand away, he felt another set against them.

"Thank you. I enjoy learning new things." He brushed his own fingertips against the rough hands, looking down at them as he did so. There was just something about them, about the man they belonged to himself, that made Eduard wish he could just grab them and pull him close until their lips connected and they were fighting for dominance...

The thoughts disappeared as Lars pulled his hands away, giving a less than amused look to the Estonian. It struck a chord of fear with the other nation. Feeling and trying to get to know every little imperfection of his hands had probably been too strange of a thing for the Dutchman to handle. The anxiety began to return, and he worried he ruined the short pleasant conversation they'd been having.

"Well. I'd say you do. Anyone who can type that damn fast has to."

With that, Lars rose to his feet, leaving a rather astonished Estonian on the bench.

As he began to walk away, slowly the wheels were still turning in the other man's mind. If he thought enough of that to comment on it, then... It meant... He _had_ been noticed by Lars. Whether for better or worse he had made an impression on the powerful country, and no longer did he have to worry that the other considered him invisible.

And 'desperate' or not, the cornflower still hadn't wilted away into nothing after an abnormally long time...

Turning his head to look and see the other already starting down the sidewalk, he called out to him.

"Wait!"

Eduard clamored to his feet, not even paying any mind to the handkerchief as it fell discarded to the ground. The taller nation was beginning to remove his blue and white striped scarf, feeling it added too much unnecessary heat. Yet he still paid no mind to the other calling for him, waiting until a hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder to look back down with an eyebrow raised.

"...Would you like to go for coffee sometime?"

* * *

Open ending, yay. Because I just wanted to do one of those.


End file.
